To Be Granted Asylum
by Erica Keber
Summary: Mary Alice Brandon had a secret—one that she had to keep to preserve her own life. But how do you keep that secret when you know that doing so will result in someone's death? The story of Alice's past; will end with her meeting the Cullens in 1950.
1. Ch 1: Bitter Ruminations

**To Be Granted Asylum...**

_Summary_: Mary Alice Brandon had a secret—one that she had to keep to preserve her own life. But how do you keep that secret when you know that doing so will result in someone's death? The story of how Alice makes a decision that alters her future beyond recognition, and of the new course her future follows. I'll be writing through until she meets with the Cullens in 1950, and will try to stay as true to canon as possible.

**Author's Note:** **I do not own the Twilight Series, nor do I own any of its characters. I simply like to play with the clay that Stephenie Meyer makes. This disclaimer applies to each chapter of this story since I'll probably forget it somewhere.**

**I'll be switching the POV as I write this, and may sometimes overlap POVs from different characters. The story will begin and mostly be in Alice's POV. I'm also trying to stay close to canon, so please let me know if my information is inaccurate. There are closing notes that will explain any inconsistencies that I'm already aware of between my story and the _Twilight_ books, as I may use them to suit my vision of this story.**

**This is my first story for FanFiction, and the first writing of mine I've made public. Please do not let that piece of information lull you into thinking I wouldn't want to read a bad review—they're like blueberries: somewhat bitter, but they're healthy and help purge the bad stuff (blueberries are actually an excellent source of antioxidants, which reduce harmful free radicals in your body—nerd tidbit of the day). I don't know if bad reviews make great muffins, but we'll work on that later. Anyway, I'll answer every one, and I appreciate whatever comments you have!**

Chapter 1: Bitter Ruminations

I awoke abruptly to the same view that I'd seen every morning for the past year and a half: the outstretched branches of the tree outside my window as it reached in futile effort to pull me to safety. The old Swamp Red Maple looked like a cat with tufts of fur pulled out as it lost it leaves, dying for the year but still remaining alive. The constancy of the tree helped me face each day. My room and person were in the same conditions as well—I wore the same set of threadbare clothing, lay on the same hard mattress, and wrapped my thin, petite body in the same coarse blanket. The attempt to block out some of the cold was always unsuccessful at this time of year—the frozen, damp air permeated my very being in this wretched place. Despite what should be a warm, humid climate in this area of Mississippi during autumn, the stone walls of my room hold the cool moisture from the outdoors. The shade from the monstrous pine trees that surround the premises also keep the sun from warming the building. My stomach twisted itself into a knot in anticipation of breakfast, but I knew the bread and water I would receive would not satiate me. The cold and hunger were expected of course, but I know that this will not be the case for all of today's events—I know that I will die today, and that knowledge makes me hate this morning more than any other in my existence.

I could feel the draft from the window on my scalp as I wrapped my body more tightly in my blanket, since my thick hair hadn't completely grown back yet. When I had entered the asylum at age 17, they had shaved my head to ensure that I wouldn't spread lice to the rest of the occupants. Since many of the patients at the asylum were previously homeless, lice were a legitimate concern. However, someone had apparently overlooked this procedure eight months ago, as some unwashed newcomer had spread the bugs to a few of other tenants of my dilapidated abode. With ruthless efficiency, all of our heads were shaved again. The approximately three inches of black hair that sprouted out of my head in various directions could attest to the efficacy of this tactic, as I was certainly now lice-free, even though I had been my entire life. This is how all of the problems here are solved: squash it completely without regard for the source or severity.

I, after 19 months of living in the asylum, am no stranger to the tactic of total annihilation in regards to a perceived "problem." For example, I'd had the most recent of several shock treatments yesterday evening. According to my doctors, my visions are a result of a moral deficiency in my character—a gift from Satan for my blackened soul. Rather than learn about why I receive my visions or about how they work, the doctors feel the need to expunge them from my being to purify me. The shock treatments are meant to loosen the grip of my resistance and chase the visions from my brain, while the ice water baths are supposed to teach me to tell the truth, and admit that I started receiving my visions when my moral fibre started to deteriorate and I welcomed sin in my life. At least, upon Jeremy's request, I was no longer restrained to my bed when I slept. The absence of my manacles allowed me to wrap my blanket around my body and try to enjoy the cocoon of warmth that my body heat had started to build.

Since I know that I'm going to die tonight, I linger on my cot for longer than usual to enjoy this warmth. I reminisce about how I arrived at the last day of my life, and a cold, choking laugh escapes my throat. It's a sound I wouldn't have recognized a year and a half ago, but I know that it comes from my mouth, and that I can't laugh properly anymore. The only time I resemble the young woman I used to be is when Jeremy visits with me. I toy with the idea of telling him why I'm here today, since he's badgered me to know since I was admitted last February. I dig through my memory to make sure I give him all of the relevant details. He'll be the only person, besides my family, who knows my story, and for some reason I _must_ tell him everything. I need to be remembered by someone, and he's the only person who would believe me that I'm going to see before my future disappears completely.

* * *

I was 12 the last time I'd admitted to having a vision. It wasn't intentional, but I sometimes slipped up if something I'd seen was mentioned in casual conversation. Despite my young age, I'd become too aware of the conversations I had; I needed to keep myself safe. Poppa had warned me that our neighbors in Gulfport, Mississippi had become scared of me, and started spreading nasty rumors about our family, saying that we consorted with Satan and I sold my soul for visions, or that Momma was a witch who forced me to see how her spells would influence the future. I didn't understand every rumor at the time, but I knew I didn't want to put my parents or my 10-year-old sister, Cynthia, in danger. My parents enforced that my visions were detrimental, and told me that I shouldn't talk about them at all.

When I exposed my visions this time, I was with Momma and our neighbor, Mrs. Williard. Mama walked with Mrs. Williard every week, as she said it was helpful to be seen with the mayor's wife when there were rumors running about regarding our family. I felt guilty for causing those rumors, so I always walked with them in my best dress and tried to look presentable. This time, I was walking next to Momma and had become engrossed by watching a blue jay build its nest, when I'd heard Mrs. Williard talking about her plans for the next day.

"Oh Olivia Brandon, of course I feel safe driving Darryl Hammond's motorcar. Those machines don't frighten me at all. Anyway, I truly don't have a choice because my father is so ill. I need to see him at once."

That phrase and my lack of focus on the present was all it took for me to see Mrs. Williard's day. I knew I shouldn't say anything to her, but I saw her being injured. As soon as I made up my mind to tell her what would happen, I knew Mama would be extremely cross with me. I ignored it as I blurted out, "But Mrs. Williard, it's going to rain and the motorcar is going to get stuck in a rut. You'll slam your hand into the front of the car when it jolts, and you're going to end up breaking your wrist. You can't do that."

As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I felt my stomach sink down in my body. Mrs. Williard's accident was still in my vision for tomorrow. I couldn't see what decision she'd make until I told her, but I thought that surely she'd want to avoid being hurt and wrecking Dr. Hammond's motorcar.

Momma gave me a look of pure dread, and she tried to do the only thing she could think of: pretend I was crazy. She forced a hollow, mirthless laugh and said, "Alice, dear, please don't let your imagination and fear of motorcars run away and scare poor Mrs. Williard. She does need to see her father, and you're making her worry unnecessarily."

I knew I was already in trouble, because Momma smiled, but the skin around her eyes was tight; I'd seen her look like that when Cynthia or I came running inside with our knees cut up. We always got a lecture on how proper young ladies should behave, but I could see that the speech Momma was going to give me when we got home was going to be worse. I saw her yelling at me about "keeping to myself" as soon as we were behind locked doors.

Mrs. Williard gave me a peculiar look, but she didn't say anything else. When I got home, Momma told Poppa what had happened, and the two of them surprised me. Instead of sitting me down and telling me about how I couldn't share these kinds of things with other people again, they changed their minds and became very quiet. I could see several futures flashing in my head, but none of them were certain yet. Momma started busying herself with putting all of our clothes in bags. I could tell she still wasn't happy with me, and I thought I caught her crying, but she just said, "We'll try to fix this Alice. Just go on and play with Cynthia." I think that being dismissed was worse than hearing the speech she'd planned on giving. I could feel the unease spread through my body that usually came with not knowing what was going to happen. I knew I'd have to wait until they made a decision, as that's when my vision would always clear up.

Two days later, we heard from another neighbor that Mrs. Williard had broken her wrist going to see her father, and that it took three men to dig out Darryl Hammond's motorcar. As soon as my parents got the news that Mrs. Williard wanted to speak with them when she returned, I got a vision of us moving away. The very next day, we were off with everything we had for Biloxi. When I asked Momma and Poppa why we were leaving, they said they needed a change. I knew it was my fault, and I was miserable that I'd made us leave home.

I didn't truly hate myself until I saw Cynthia's reaction. As we emptied the last of our possessions from our room, she turned to me and said, "Mary Alice, we have to leave all of our friends because you can't keep your mouth shut. Can you pay attention to what you're doing for one second so you stop ruining our lives?" Hearing such harsh words from a ten year old made me realize that what I was didn't help her or my parents; it only hurt them. From that day on, I'd promised myself that I would to never again say a thing about my visions to anyone, even to my own family.

* * *

My life in Biloxi became a rebirth. Without rumors circulating regarding the status of my immortal soul, my demeanor and my entire family's personalities became buoyant. I found that I could have real friends, and if I allowed myself a chance to see my own future before I answered anyone's questions or comments, I could avoid exposing myself as a freak again. Everyone who met me simply assumed I tried to think very hard before I spoke, just as a good little girl should. Mothers were no longer afraid to allow me near their daughters, and the feeling of knowing that I could be myself without people thinking that I was some kind of aberration or that I was possessed by the devil was pure ecstasy. My family seemed to enjoy themselves more as well after they got over the fear that I was going to continually ruin our lives.

Better yet, I found out that I could suppress some of my visions, even if the stronger ones still came to me. When I felt the familiar tug on my mind to pull it away from the present, I was able to focus on something in front of me or on something tangible to avoid seeing the vision. I would see the ones that dealt with my own future clearly of course, but I could block out the visions about other people. This allowed me to invent excuses easily if the occasional glazed look crossed my face—I ran out of excuses in Gulfport when I was hit by visions multiple times in every hour.

The friends I made as a result of my sudden venture into normalcy allowed the years to pass almost effortlessly. Cynthia and I became closer, as she believed me to be cured of whatever wickedness possessed me. Together, we became social butterflies in Biloxi. We enjoyed walking through the town and greeting the townspeople, and many of our friends adopted this behavior with us. People assumed we were happy, bubbly young girls, and I did nothing to alter this perception. Our social circle grew, and Papa's business at the general store was the best it had ever been due to our sterling reputation.

When my seventeenth birthday had passed, Momma said that we'd have to announce me soon, and that young men might call on me. Since we were not socialites, as Papa's position as a store co-owner placed us directly in the middle class, I was not to have a débutante ball. I'd found a love for clothing and dressing up as I got older, so the idea of a ball attracted me; however, the idea of young men calling to court me was far less attractive. I doubted that many would call, since I looked like I was the same age as Cynthia, but I didn't want to spoil anything for Mama so I kept my mouth shut. I'd had enough practice doing so by now anyway.

Of course, I did spoil everything again a few months later. Despite having kept the promise to myself to never ruin our lives again, I came to the decision to break it after five years. I didn't come to this realization lightly, but I couldn't profess to be an upstanding person if I didn't end my silence. A life was at stake, and I loved the person dearly.

My best friend in Biloxi, besides Cynthia of course, was Vivienne Jessup. We'd been friends since I was 13, and we were different in almost every visible way. While I had barely grown, and was diminutive in stature at just under five feet tall, Vivienne was statuesque at five-feet, nine-inches. My body was petite and compact, and hers had begun to show soft curves at age 15 that became more pronounced each year. She had wavy blonde hair that sat regally below her shoulders, while my ebony curls had to be pinned up to mimic some semblance of order. The only feature that we shared was the nearly identical color of our gray-blue eyes.

Our approach to men was appropriately different as well. Although I was open and carefree with my family and friends, I had no idea how to respond to the gentlemen that came to court me.

Vivienne, of course, needed no instruction in the art of feminine wiles. She never understood my reluctance to walk or have tea with any of the young men in town, as she did not share in this reluctance. "Hummingbird," Vivienne would say in an underhanded jab at my size and appetite, "Why don't you simply enjoy the attention? How often is it that a man _wants_ to do everything he can to make you happy?"

"Flamingo," I'd begin my verbal parry, "I don't _want _the attention. I'm perfectly fine with my life as it is. I enjoy your company, and Cynthia's, and I don't desire any one else's. Besides, I can't see myself with any of these men." I had to smile to myself that Vivienne had no idea of the double meaning behind that phrase.

Many of the callers that Vivienne and I received were the local boys I'd known since we moved to Biloxi, and I couldn't look at them as a husband any more than I could look at myself as a wife. I had never seen any of them in anything besides my immediate future, so I knew that they were not meant for me and I tried to redirect their attentions to other young women. Vivienne, on the other hand, welcomed their attention gladly, and acted as if they were being introduced for the first time whenever one of them asked for her company on this walk, or at that tea. She was the picture of a shy, coquettish young woman, and quickly developed a talent for flirting. I still remember how she seemed to have several gentlemen wrapped around her pinky, and the thought always prompts the corners of my lips to rise.

Even after a few months of courting, Vivienne seemed perturbed at my indifference to an activity she found so amusing, and asked me about it several times. "How do you just send them all away, Alice? Many of those men seem taken with your surprising grace and your annoying, infectious laughter." She grinned, and I knew she was goading me with candy-coated insults. After four years of friendship, I knew I could count on her wry wit to make me smile.

I of course, could not disappoint her with my own verbal sparring. "Well, my laughter seems to send them your way, and you seem to be infinitely more amusing. They all leave your company as if afflicted with some kind of drug, which is far more infectious than my laughter. I think it may be your pretension that fools and addicts them."

Vivienne giggled as she acknowledged my victory. We both knew that she put on a show of grace and manners for every man that came to see her. Of course, I had an advantage, as I knew what to say to make her capitulate to my wit. We knew that the men that met her left her company permanently impacted by her charm, but she simply moved on to the next one.

None of the gentleman callers seemed to create the same impression on Vivienne until Robert Warren had. Robert came through Biloxi on his way to Mobile from New Orleans. He was staying in Biloxi to meet with a friend before they enlisted in Mobile to fight in the Great War. At 19 years old, Robert had developed a swagger too big for his years. He was certainly charming, and had the looks to pair with the charisma he exuded. He was a lean six-foot-one, and had wavy chestnut hair. His light brown eyes always had a mischievous glint, and his face was chiseled enough to be both handsome and beautiful at the same time. His quick, violent temper was always followed by his even quicker sense of humor, and he easily made friends with many of the townsfolk.

I could tell Vivienne was immediately taken with him, as he was both handsome and out of the ordinary. As every other man did, Robert took quick notice of Vivienne as well. She was delighted by his violently quick mood swings, and thought that he kept her on her toes. However, although I could see her with him for the immediate future, I didn't see her marrying him or going past an initial courtship. At that time, I hadn't _tried_ to have any visions, so I guessed they would break things off quickly once Robert was ready to leave for Mobile. As I look back on these events, I still experience the knife of guilt twisting in my abdomen as I realize I could have altered Vivienne's fate.

Sadly, this was not to be the case. Vivienne confided in me about two and a half weeks after she met Robert.

"He makes my head spin, Hummingbird! I'm so incredibly in love with him already. He's different from everyone I've met here—when I'm with him, life is exciting. It feels like my heart swells up in my chest whenever he looks at me." Her smile and glazed eyes made me want to roll my eyes at her, but I knew she did care for him.

I tried to temper her enthusiasm, even though I knew that the attempt was going to be futile. "Vivienne, he _does _have a temper. I know he always makes up for it right away, but don't you think other things like that will bother you as you get to know one another better? It has barely been two weeks since you met him."

"I don't care…I feel like I'm floating when I'm with him. He's witty, and a perfect gentleman. I know he's spoiled me for anyone else. I'm going to marry him, Alice!"

She told me they were going to run off together to be married before he left, and she didn't seem to care that she'd be abandoning her family as she rode the high of infatuation. As her decision solidified, my mind was battered with the visions that I'd repressed so aggressively. They assaulted my brain in waves, I let my mind fill with them, and Vivienne assumed I was in shock when I froze.

I saw visions of her packing her bags, telling her family that she and I were going into town with an escort to walk and have tea with me. I saw her meeting Robert and getting into the waiting motorcar. I also saw them stop at an inn on the way to Mobile, Alabama for Robert to enlist. While stopping at that inn, I saw Robert suggest that they stay together as a married couple to avoid suspicion. He got angry when Vivienne refused, as a good lady should, but she acquiesced once she saw his anger was real. Unfortunately, I also saw him say that they should act as if this charade were true while they were alone as well, a suggestion to which Vivienne replied by slapping him in the face and threatening to leave. At this point, I couldn't stop the visions, and I stood helpless as I saw Robert become enraged, then overpower her. I couldn't block the vision from my mind as he started to rip off her skirt and petticoat. To keep my own sanity, I focused on Vivienne's face as the vision continued, and then felt utterly helpless as he finally strangled her until she lay lifeless on the bed. I had to close my eyes and hold back the tears and fury that threatened to ravage my system.

I knew then what I had to do. I had to compromise everything that my family had worked for over the past five years, because I couldn't stand for these visions to come true. "Vivienne, I know you want to rush into this right now. Please, _please_, wait so that we have a chance to say goodbye, and consider how your family will feel if you run off with Robert. I can't lose you just yet."

She seemed touched when I admitted that I didn't want her to go, and she said that she would wait until Friday, which was two days away. I thanked her and left as hastily as I could, and practically ran the entire way home.

At dinner, I decided to tell my parents that I had to expose myself as an abnormality cast upon society again, as I couldn't allow them to be blindsided when I went to Vivienne's parents.

"I have to tell you all something, and it's going to be very difficult for you to hear." I looked around at their faces, and I knew they were expecting the worst, which was exactly what I was about to deliver to them. "I know you've all been under the impression that I haven't had a vision since Mrs. Hammond's accident, but that's not the case. I'm sorry to burden you with this again, but I've had a vision that I can't keep a secret, because if I do, it will be the same as if I've murdered someone." I then proceeded to tell them about Vivienne's impending fate.

The happiness drained from my mother's face quickly as she realized that I'd never be the perfect daughter she'd thought I'd become. Cynthia's eyes sprang tears that I don't think she was even aware of, as she stared at me like I'd become a stranger before her eyes. In a way, I guess I had. I know she felt as if I'd betrayed her by keeping my visions from her, and I hoped that she'd be able to forgive me for it. My father sat stone-faced at the head of the table. He moved only to loosen the tie at his neck and to unbutton his vest. Since he hadn't said anything yet, I decided to continue.

I cleared my throat before I spoke again, "I know this will put us in a terrible situation. Since I've made the decision to do everything I can to stop Vivienne, my own future has changed. You won't have to move away from Biloxi, as I simply see myself becoming an outcast since I'm old enough that people can see me as separate from the family. I'm sorry that I've kept this from all of you, but I'm sorrier that I'm ruining your lives again. However, I can't sit by and let my best friend experience the most horrid things imaginable in an effort to preserve my own comfortable lifestyle."

When I'd finished speaking, silence invaded the house and left a cloying atmosphere. None of us dared to move for minutes on end. Finally, Cynthia broke the silence before my parents could. As soon as she decided to speak, my heart filled up with the knowledge that she was about to forgive me for what I was going to do. Silent tears streamed down my face as I listened to her, "Alice, your talents are not a brand on your soul. They are certainly your cross to bear, and I couldn't imagine seeing something like what may happen to Vivienne happen to you. I've forgiven you for anything we'll go through already, and I hope that one day you'll look at me with the reverence with which I look upon you right now. You're making this decision willingly to save Vivienne's life, and I'm proud to be your sister. I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't love you for who you are when we moved here."

I couldn't believe these words came from my fifteen year old sister, but the gratitude that radiated through my being when she said she'd forgiven me already was more than enough to give me the strength to proceed. With that statement lingering in the air, she gave a poignant stare to my parents, and cleared her place at the table. I sat dumbfounded and overjoyed at knowing that Cynthia wouldn't hate me for making the decision reveal my visions again. I now waited for my parents to decide how to respond. I tried to focus solely on the present, as I didn't want to see what would happen before it did. After years of trying to repress my visions at my parents' requests, I didn't think they'd be pleased with me throwing their wishes back into their faces.

My father finally spoke, and his voice was quiet, but final. "Alice…we're proud to have you as a daughter. Remember that, as I know that you're probably not telling the whole truth regarding what will happen after you tell Vivienne's family. Things will probably be bad, but we support your decision." He put his arm around my mother as he spoke, and silent tears had begun to stream down her cheeks. I felt a lump form in my throat, and I quickly gave a single nod, and then moved away from the dinner table. It was very much like Papa to be so brief once he'd made up his mind. I could tell it was hard for them to accept, but I could also see the hurt in his eyes once he'd realized that Cynthia was right—they'd asked me to repress part of myself.

I knew that the hardest part was still ahead—to convince Vivienne's parents of the truth—as I went immediately to the room that Cynthia and I shared. I flung myself on my bed and sobbed harder than I could ever remember doing. I couldn't bear to tell them that in saving Vivienne, I condemned myself to a life of imprisonment, either as a supposed accomplice to Robert if I failed, or as a lunatic in an asylum if I succeeded.

The next day, I went to the Jessup house in the morning. When I told Vivienne's family that she was going to run away with Robert, they forbid her from seeing him, and confined her to the house. The vision of what would happen to her didn't change, so I knew that I needed to go further. I had to tell the Jessups how I knew that Robert would harm Vivienne, and I explained all of my visions, why my family came to Biloxi, and how I knew she would still be harmed. They were in disbelief, but the visions of Vivienne dying stopped, and I had to sigh with relief. I knew that I was making things worse for myself, but I was glad to save her life.

I went to bed that night feeling happy that I had finally done something worthwhile as a result of my peculiar ability, and lay wondering if I could now tell my family about things I saw. As I drifted off to sleep, I saw Vivienne pay one of the servants with her jewelry to send for Robert and to let her out of her house. Thinking I was dreaming, I did not take any action immediately. I saw her run to a motorcar waiting in her driveway, and the visions of Vivienne's death rushed back to meet me. I shot up in my bed, and heard a strangled, foreign cry erupt from my throat. Cynthia awoke and was next to my bed immediately, but I knew that no matter what we did now, Vivienne would be gone by the time I told her parents. I had done everything I could, and still the future mocked my efforts by taking someone I had loved dearly for over four years.

* * *

When Vivienne's parents found her missing the next morning, they whipped the servant who let her out. They waited for the news of her death, and the slight hopes they fostered were obliterated when they news of their daughter's murder reached them a week later. In a fury, they told the town of my "visions" and what had happened, saying that I had conspired with Robert to murder Vivienne out of jealously since I knew what would happen. I saw the townspeople putting me on trial and hanging me, and so I had to tell Momma and Poppa that I'd failed miserably.

This time, it was Momma that relieved my sore spirits. "Mary Alice," she'd said, "You cannot fault yourself for the evil in others. I'm so sorry that we made you feel as though you were part of that evil by the nature of your gift. You can only try to do good deeds with the abilities you're given. Your father and I have an idea that will hurt us forever, but will only help in the fact that it may save your life." She explained to me that I could enter an asylum willingly, and with tears streaming down all of our faces, I saw my new future the moment I accepted—that I would never see them again, but that they could live normal lives once I was gone.

* * *

I sensed that Jeremy would be by to see me soon, which stopped my wallowing in old memories. I no longer questioned how I could become so hard and callous at the age of 19, but I knew that I was only a shadow of the happy, excitable Mary Alice I had been in Biloxi. I turned my focus on the time at which I saw my own future dim, knowing that it meant that Jeremy would be with me. Maybe if I share those memories before I die, he will tell me why he is the one person whose future I can't see.

* * *

**Closing Notes: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this chapter! One criticism my brother made (acting as a real life beta—Thank you!) was that the speech patterns of my characters are nothing like what they would actually be in Mississippi. I've done this for a couple of reasons: first, I am no Mark Twain, so I would probably butcher it in an attempt to sound like I wrote Huck Finn, and second, there are international readers for this story, and they may not understand the southern dialogue as easily.**

**Second, SM says Alice's head was shaved, but this practice was not common in asylums—I've been advised that a woman's hair would be cut when she entered an asylum to make wigs. I made up the lice idea to keep the story consistent with SM's ideas, as I could not find another plausible reason as to why her head would have been shaved.**

**I have any other sources I used on my profile if you're curious. I will be trying to update on ****a two-to-three week schedule**, but I can't make promises and sometimes my job will take over my life for a couple of weeks. I do have an outline for this story, so I will continue soon. Again, all reviews—good or bad—are appreciated!


	2. Ch 2: Healing the Dying Hurts

**To Be Granted Asylum**

**Author's Note:** **I do not own the Twilight Series, nor do I own any of its characters. I simply like to play with the clay that Stephenie Meyer makes. This disclaimer applies to each chapter of this story since I'll probably forget it somewhere.**

**Summary: Alice entered the asylum last chapter when she failed to save her best friend's life. She exposed her visions to attempt to save her, but was instead accused of being an accomplice in her murder. The only other alternative was a trial and hanging, so she seeks refuge at the asylum.**

Chapter 2: Healing the Dying Hurts

**_The Hunter_**

The only thing that saved the young girl was my sense of self-preservation. Had there not been another vampire close by, I would have killed her and the 63 immediate bystanders without a second thought. I could have set fire to the building afterwards to explain the mass casualties, just to keep the anonymity of my kind safe, and therefore preserve my own safety from the Volturi. However, all of these thoughts currently resided in the recesses of my consciousness.

The only item that occupied the foreground of my mind was her incredible _scent_. In 28 years of this existence, I had never smelled another human with blood this tempting and intoxicating. I had heard of the concept of a singer, but I wasn't sure if this was the phenomenon I currently experienced. Her scent didn't completely consume me, but every fiber of my being responded. My desiccated throat burst into flames with each breath I drew. My muscles tensed in anticipation of an attack, and I could feel my hearing and vision sharpen as my predatory instincts prepared themselves for confrontation. The only idea I could form was one of desire—I had to have her before another vampire could smell her.

I came across the building—seemingly a prison or hospital—while hunting with my companion, Harvey. It was overcast, so we were able to hunt during the daylight hours. He had broken off to the west, while I headed south. Hunting together was not an option, as one of us would likely harm the other while crazed by the scent of our prey. His talent for sensing danger before it reached us made me unwilling to dispatch of him now. It was more prudent to hunt alone and rendezvous later.

I could smell and hear the large group of humans nearby when I let my senses range outward. I knew Harvey had no chance of knowing this was here, as his own senses had limits that mine did not seem to. I figured I could grab a couple of them if they were separated from the group and make a quick meal. As I approached, I caught _Her_ scent. The impact of such a sensation staggered me, as it ripped through my frozen nervous system. She smelled like warm cinnamon, but I could not process this connection while inhaling the redolence that seeped from her veins.

I sped towards the scent without a second thought. I no longer noticed the other humans that surrounded her. I knew I would savor her blood, then track and kill everyone that had seen me. I began to mentally catalogue every scent I could pick up to ensure that I found every last witness.

As I approached the fence surrounding the facility, only one thought was able to break my ferocious concentration: my own safety. I smelled another vampire before I could clear the fence, and concern that I could be ambushed while capturing my meal forced my legs to stop. I slowly walked up to the fence and scanned the yard for both my competitor and the scrumptious morsel I would find once he was dispatched. I found her first, as I could practically see the fragrance leeching from her body with its siren call. She was tiny in the extreme with jet black hair that seemed to stand out from her head out of its own accord; one look told me that she would put up no fight, which would allow me to enjoy the meal.

I then located the threat I'd sensed earlier. He approached the fence with pure fury on his face. I was curious as to how he could stand to be near all of these humans at once—perhaps he kept them here as a food store? But surely, other humans would take notice as these humans died in small groups. Still, the idea was rather intriguing.

"This territory is claimed. Please leave immediately," the man said as he approached. Despite the aggression in his posture, I could tell that he was no fighter. Still, it was against our law to kill another of our kind without provocation, so I tried to resolve the situation diplomatically.

"I don't mean to intrude, friend. However, one of your humans calls to me very insistently, and I cannot move on from here while her smell holds me captive. If you would be so kind as to allow me to take her, I'll leave your territory in peace, and permanently." I indicated which human I meant, so that he knew I smelled her specifically, and smiled in the hopes that he would see I meant him no harm.

When I pointed to the girl, he became even angrier. Was she a favorite pet? Or, perhaps he coveted her scent as well. That was something by which I could not abide, and I would have to break the law and dispose of him if he aimed to eat this human himself.

"That will not be possible. I will protect all of the humans here," was his immediate and resolute response. I heard the tension and strain in his voice, but couldn't understand why it was there.

"Do you desire her for yourself? I'm not sure why you're angered by this request, but I can assure you, if our positions were reversed, that human would have been dead from the moment I smelled her. I can exercise restraint, but you must understand that I have never smelled anything like her before." I straightened my shoulders and stared into his eyes, indicating that I would not leave the topic alone. As I looked at his eyes for the first time, I experienced the second staggering shock of the day.

"What in the hell are you?" was the only question that entered my mind.

He grinned slightly, and asked for my name.

"James," I answered, "What is yours, strange one?"

"Jeremy," he replied. "James, I don't live as most of our kind does. I choose not to hunt humans, but animals instead, so that I can live among the humans, as I have work that is more important to me than blood. I would be glad to show you about this life if you would like, but I am bound to protect some of the humans here. The girl you desire is one of them."

"You realize that I'll have to take her, then? If you don't want to kill her, you have no reason to attack me for feeding when she is not claimed." I knew that he understood my argument when his eyes fell. He knew that I now was in the right according to our kind, and that I could kill him if he stood in my way.

"I understand, but I will not allow her to be taken. My diet makes me stronger than you; I wouldn't like to kill you over this."

As he insisted on protecting the human, my brain began to function again despite the presence of the girl's perfume. I could enjoy this. Since this strange one seemed to have formed an attachment to this pet human, I would make him pay for delaying my acquisition of her. If Harvey came with me, I could enjoy her blood while he occupied Jeremy, and the strange one would have to watch while I killed his pet. Then we could dispose of him.

As a plan began to form in my head, I turned to the yellow-eyed man and said, "I'll see you again, friend," and walked away to find a new meal and to meet with Harvey.

* * *

**_Mary Alice_**

Jeremy O'Roarke will visit in 14 minutes and 22 seconds…21 seconds…20 seconds. Being able to pinpoint exactly when he will arrive causes a wide smile to split my face. The action still feels foreign, as I so rarely find cause to smile here. They've tried to "cure" me, and instead I've tried to do everything I can to sharpen my second sight in obstinacy and defiance. Over the past two years, I've learned how to focus on a particular person's future, and how to determine timelines for the visions as well. Jeremy is the only puzzle I have yet to put together. I can see exactly when he'll get here, because my own future disappears, and I can see that he'll leave 1 hour and 3 minutes later, because my own future returns. Of course, my future disappears forever at 9:16 tonight, but at least I know when my death will meet me. What bothers me is that I can't see how. In the vision, I can hear something scraping against my window, and as I turn around, my future simply ceases to exist. The vision feels so similar to the ones that lead up to Jeremy's visits, but I always see my future around the times when I'm with him. Past tonight, I see nothing.

I know the reason Jeremy is coming to see me because I had another shock treatment yesterday. He's not permitted to see me directly afterwards, as only one nurse observes me following each session, so for the past two years he's visited me as soon as he can on the following day. Each time, I tell him that it's unnecessary to heal the pain, but he tries to anyway. Apparently, nobody else notices what he's doing, but maybe it's because some of the people here are actually crazy. Jenny down the hall has to count to 333 every morning before she'll leave her room, and Betty next door tries to cut herself with any sharp object she can find. I doubt anyone would believe them if they said that Jeremy took their pain away.

* * *

The first time I received a shock treatment, I remember Jeremy coming to check up on me the next day. I could feel the small burns on my temples that were still raw, and the front of my head felt as if it had been cleaved with a machete. Jeremy sat and talked with me, and I felt the strangest sensation. It was as if I could feel someone poking at my brain, and, upon finding where the pain was located, gently lifting it away. I could feel the connection form between my mind and his. The sensation was so foreign that I became frightened because I had no idea what was happening.

"What do you think you're doing to me?" I'd yelled at Jeremy. He gave me a quizzical look and asked what I meant. "Is this some sort of other treatment? You all send me to be electrocuted, and when you think I'm defenseless, you drug me?" The connection I'd felt seemed to disappear immediately, and all of the pain I should have felt came rushing back in to my head at once. I almost collapsed on the bed, but my anger at whatever was happening was the only thing that kept me upright.

"Alice, please tell me what you're feeling that made you so angry. I'm not here to hurt you," Jeremy had pleaded with me. Something about the way his light golden-brown eyes had bored into mine made me think he was sincere. At this point, it didn't matter if I told him what it felt like or not, since if I was drugged, it was already spreading through my system.

"It felt like something was touching and enveloping my brain…like yours was connected to mine," I replied honestly. "It did take away some of the pain, but I just don't feel right. I know that I should still be in pain…is it ether? I've never felt it."

Jeremy's mouth fell open and his eyes widened as I said this. His lips moved up and down like a fish gasping for air as it realizes it has left the water. Jeremy looked at me for a full five seconds before asking, "You can feel that?"

A small smile graced my face for the first time in a week, but I know my eyes were still disappointed as I said, "I knew you were doing something. Please leave, I'll sit through whatever this treatment is on my own if you don't mind."

Jeremy composed himself and knelt down in front of me as I sat on my cot. He was still above my eye level, as he was over one foot taller than I. He spoke softly, as if he were afraid of frightening me, saying, "Alice, please don't be alarmed. I'm shocked, as I've never come across anyone that noticed me using my particular 'gift'. I'm a healer, Alice. If you'll let me, I can help with some of the pain. I can't actually heal your body, but I can take away your mind's perception of the pain associated with it."

I gave myself a moment to absorb this information. Jeremy was the only person I'd ever met who'd admitted to having a gift. Strangely, he embraced this gift and was trying to use it to help me. I felt my lips purse as I stared at the floor. After about a minute, I raised my eyes to his and asked, "Do you tell people about your gift? And why do you want to help me?"

His lips turned up slowly then, and I saw some of the tension evaporate from his face. Apparently, this was not the response he feared. There was a touch of humor in his voice as he answered, "No, I don't tell anyone. That's why I work here, and how I avoid becoming a patient. I find it easiest to help people society deems 'insane'. That way, if they tell anyone I heal them, nobody believes them. Sadly, it's the easiest way to help others, and remain undetected." He ended with a shrug of his shoulders, but added, "I feel as if it is my duty to use my gift, and I try to help everyone here when I can."

I nodded slowly. I could understand why he would want to hide what he was, and I could also understand feeling the compulsion to utilize a gift. I felt like Jeremy would understand my position, and against my instincts to defend myself, I wanted to let him know that I understood his: "I know what it's like to hide a gift, Jeremy. Thank you for trying to help me. I'm sorry that I yelled at you, but I was scared." He knew why I was at the asylum, so he didn't ask anything else. We simply sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Jeremy started talking about the weather and some of the other patients at the asylum. I felt him begin to remove my pain again. It was as if he lifted the pain and sealed the avenue through which my brain was aware of it, just as one would remove a bullet, and then cauterize the wound. Throughout the remainder of our conversation, I noticed that once the connection between our minds was slowly released, my head felt fantastic.

* * *

I heard the door to my "room" open, if you could call my closet a room, and Jeremy entered. As always, I was a little bit shocked to see a man that looked like an animated sculpture in this God-forsaken place, but I tried to give him a small smile to let him know I was happy to see him. He left the door open slightly as he entered, and he only took three strides to cross the small room and sit in the chair next to my cot. I haul my torso up from my cot and study his face and he does so, knowing that this may be the last time I see him.

Jeremy had the palest skin I'd ever seen, which was no easy title to be won when I'd spent the past two years around people who'd barely seen the outdoors. It was as if his features had been chiseled from alabaster marble, as they were defined and severe, yet smooth. His jaw ended in a narrow chin, and his thin lips were even a few shades of pink lighter than anyone else's I have ever seen. His high, prominent cheekbones surrounded a thin, long noise, and above them rested his honey-colored eyes. His thick black eyebrows hung low over his eye sockets, and his wavy hair that hung halfway to his shoulders was the same ebony shade as mine.

As soon as he came in the door, I felt the familiar link between his mind and mine as he tried to take away the hurt from my treatment yesterday. He grinned as he sat down, and asked, "So, did you give them hell again while they tried to strap you into that contraption?" Last time I'd gone for treatment, I kicked an orderly in the face and broke his nose. He paid me back by sending enough of a current through my body to knock me out for 9 hours.

I blew out a small puff of air in an attempt to laugh, but I knew the effort wasn't going to be successful. Instead, I opted for brute honesty and said, "I didn't think it would be worth it since it's my last one."

Jeremy's brows narrowed and his lips turned down into an inquisitive look. He cocked his head to the side and took my hand as he asked, "So have they told you that you'll receive a different treatment? I haven't heard anything about this."

I was no longer surprised at his cool touch, so I shook my head and replied, "No, I'm going to die tonight. I can't see what happens past 9:16, and I can't see how, but I have no future after that." Suddenly, as I made that statement, the rest of my future from this moment onward disappeared. I sighed, and continued, "And you just decided to stay with me the entire day, I think, because now my future's gone completely. You can't save me, because even that decision didn't make my future resurface."

As I spoke, Jeremy's normally kind face transformed into something menacing. His lips pulled back into a sneer to expose his teeth, and his eyes narrowed as his eyebrows tilted inward. As I finished speaking, I heard what sounded like a low growl leave his chest. I shied away from him, as he looked so enraged that I felt the need to defend myself. He got up more quickly than I'd ever seen him move, and started pacing my room. I closed my eyes and tried to formulate the questions I wanted to ask him.

"Jeremy, I need you to finally be honest with me. This vision, or rather, lack of vision, feels similar to when I know you're coming to visit me. It hasn't changed since I first met you when you dropped off my linens and I couldn't see you coming. I know you're different from everyone else, and that you said that you couldn't tell me anything about where you come from. Because I feel like you're going to be tied to this, can you tell me what's going to happen?"

After I finished speaking, he turned back to me suddenly, and sat down next to me on my cot. He used his finger to turn my face toward his, and I could see him compose his features before he tried to speak.

"Alice, please know that I would never do anything to put you in danger or hurt you." I nodded in assent. "I know this is going to be frightening to you, and you'll want me to explain, but I cannot tell you everything about what may happen tonight."

He stopped there and stared at me, as if imploring me to accept these terms. I nodded again slowly, and he continued, "This has to do with the young man you saw while exercising four days ago. Do you remember him?"

"The one that you spoke with?" Jeremy nodded his head to confirm, and I continued, "But I've never seen him before in my life. He just stared at me as if he was furious, and then you came out of nowhere to talk to him. I didn't even see you outside, and the next thing I know, he'd taken a step toward the courtyard, and you were in front of him. Both of your lips were moving really quickly like you were talking, but I couldn't hear anything from where I was standing."  
Jeremy sighed, and started to explain again. "Alice, that man is like me. I'm not the only person you won't be able to see coming. I can't tell you what we are, but we're dangerous…"

I interrupted him there. "But you say that all the time and you're the least dangerous person in this entire building."

Jeremy's mouth turned upward in a mocking smile. "Dear Alice, that's because you've never seen me _try_ to be dangerous. I'm on my best behavior here, but the other man like me is not. From the moment when he saw you in that courtyard, he wanted to kill you."

Jeremy let that phrase hang in the air like morning fog. It settled into my very being, as I realized that I was not going to die, but would be murdered. Somehow, the knowledge of how it would happen helped with the unease and fear that I could feel building. I took a deep breath, and asked Jeremy to continue and to explain why he wanted me dead.

He said, "Alice, this man will stop at _nothing_ to get what he wants. My kind is very…motivated when it comes to our desires. Sometimes, those desires prompt us to inflict pain on others, and that's all I can tell you about why he wants you dead. I promise you, I will do everything possible to keep you safe today."

I shook my head as he said this and heard the strain in my own voice as I said, "Don't you see? Whatever you decide, it's not going to help. I still do not exist after tonight. He's going to succeed."

Jeremy looked at the floor, and said in an almost-whisper, "Please, Alice. I promise that I am going to do _everything_ that I can. I know that I can stop him from killing you, but you're not going to be able to see everything happening. Can you please trust me?"

The entire situation was ridiculous to me. A man wanted to murder me, and instead of calling the police for help or locking me in my room, Jeremy tries to tell me he'll be my personal body guard for the night. "Why can't we just tell anyone else what's going to happen? And why do you feel like you need to protect me, when I've already told you it won't work?" I huffed and crossed my arms as I narrowed my eyes at Jeremy.

He met mine, and his eyes were tragic, as he softly said, "No one will believe you."

I didn't breathe for a few seconds, as I realized he was right. I was powerless to advocate for my own life. My visions told me I would die, but they are also the reason that I can't protect myself.

As we sat in silence, Jeremy finally replied to my second question. "Alice, I know you've asked me why I've tried to help you before. The honest answer, in addition to what I've already told you, is that I had a daughter once. You remind me so much of her, down to your eye color. The life in your eyes when you came into this asylum made me happy again, and I've tried to do my best to help you remain the same young woman you were before this place."

Since Jeremy only looks to be in his late twenties or early thirties, this news shocked me. I was trying to figure out how old his daughter could be in my head, when Jeremy spoke quietly again.

"She died when she was young, Alice. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before." His words resonated in the room like church bells on a somber, rainy morning.

I could think of nothing to say, so I whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jeremy took my hand to affirm he'd heard me, and we sat in silence and stared ahead for a long time. I tried to make sense of what he'd told me earlier, but I still didn't understand what he was planning on doing tonight, since he already knew that my life is forfeit. I wasn't satisfied with his explanation of why this man wanted to kill me either, and not knowing why I was meeting my own death was not acceptable to me.

"Jeremy, I'm going to die tonight. Why can't you tell me why this man wants to kill me, or why you and he are different?"

Jeremy turned his head slowly to face me, and said, "Because, Alice, even though you can't see what's going to happen does not mean that I'll fail. I will promise that if I know that I cannot win, I will tell you everything so that you know why this is happening."  
I sighed heavily, knowing that he would not budge on this issue, but trying to find ways to coerce him into telling me. As we sat, Jeremy froze completely next to me and his nostrils flared. I was about to ask what was wrong, when I heard a scream from downstairs.

* * *

**_Jeremy_**

As soon as Alice said that she was going to die, I knew that James was coming back for her. Her scent was rarely a problem for me, as I'd become so used to ignoring the smell of human blood. My abstinence, however, did not prevent me from noticing the tempting aroma that her blood exuded. I knew that James must be obsessed with her because of it, and that I had managed to make Alice into a prize, and that the hunt would be his game.

Regardless, it had bought us time. I know that she thought nothing of seeing him the first time, because she assumed her future darkened because of me. I can only guess that she can't see my future by virtue of my nature—she has never been a vampire, so she can't see us.

I immediately decided that I could not leave her side, and Alice said that it didn't help; that her future was still permanently erased. As I thought through the possibilities that this information suggested, I came to the conclusion that there were only three possibilities left for Alice: I would stay with her for the rest of her life, I would turn her into a vampire, or she would die. These were the only options that left her unable to see her future from this point forward. I debated on whether or not to tell her about my nature, as it didn't seem like it would make a difference now. I thought that I could possibly get James to leave, but that it would require me to stay with her. Or possibly, I could manage to kill him and then Alice's future would reappear. I didn't like this plan, as I wasn't much of a fighter, and it required me to use Alice as bait.

I thought about the alternatives as we sat. My mind catalogued how much time was elapsing, and only about a second and a half had passed since Alice and I had last spoke. I tried to formulate several plans to save Alice, as I knew I could only turn her as a last resort. I couldn't live with myself if she died, as she truly had become a daughter and friend to me. However, the alternative, this half-life that I lived, did not seem like it was fair to her. She didn't even know what sort of monster I was, and she wasn't being given a choice. I didn't want to tell her about myself yet for fear that she'd know too much if she wandered across another vampire, and this knowledge was grounds enough to kill her.

_Could I really condemn her to a living hell?_ My mind wandered as I contemplated turning her. I knew I could kill James if he was distracted, but that I would never be able to beat him in a fair fight. It was either turn her or let him kill her then if I didn't get the opportunity to save her. I sincerely thought about letting her die, knowing that she wouldn't have to feel the pain of transformation, or live with the guilt of taking human life to satiate the thirst. Alice wasn't a creature that would take killing lightly, and I didn't want to force her into this life.

This train of thought was enough to strengthen my resolve. I _had_ to defeat James. The other options for Alice's future were not bearable.

As I made this decision, I smelled him and heard a scream from downstairs. I told Alice not to budge as I left to assess the situation, and to see what James was doing. I pulled the door out of its frame in my haste and sprinted at full speed to the stairs. I smelled the blood before I made it to the door on the ground level. I knew that he was going to make his way slowly to Alice to savor the moment. I held my breath because of the blood and scanned the room through the small glass opening in the door to find him. I saw James, but I also saw another vampire behind him. He must have taken my threats seriously, as he brought a companion.

Suddenly, I saw that my options were now even more limited. I couldn't hope to defeat two mature vampires in a fight. I knew that I would have to take Alice and run before they made their way upstairs. I felt a surge of guilt when I realized that I was condemning all of the other humans in the building to death by choosing to save Alice, and this thought almost kept me from running back to her. Almost.

I sprinted up to her room, and grabbed her as fast as I could. "It seems you will learn what you want to, Alice. I'm outnumbered two-to-one right now, and I will not be able to beat these odds. I'm going to try to get you to safety, so please stay calm, and try not to make a sound." She simply stared at me in terror, and I knew I had to get her away from here. I held her and jumped from the window.

As I ran from the asylum, I explained my nature with whatever thoughts came into my mind. I wasn't fully concentrating on my explanation, as I was calculating how much time I had before James would realize I'd left with her, and would follow my scent. I was faster than many of my kind, but I knew a head start would not deter him.

I told her about my diet, and why James wanted to kill her, but why he'd waited. "Also, when he caught my scent, he knew that he would endanger himself by doing so. Since he has a companion, I cannot fight alone, and so I'm going to change you to protect you. They will probably kill everyone else in the asylum first, so we have about thirty minutes until they follow us." As I ended my explanation, I could tell Alice was becoming dazed from the shock.

I was about to continue, but she laughed mockingly. There was no joy, no hope in the sound. It was cold, forced, and desolate. I knew she must think that the current situation was utterly ridiculous and impossible. Perhaps I should have told her about myself once James had gone, but I knew I could do nothing to change my previous actions now.

"Alice, I know that I'm not giving you a choice. The only other alternatives are to let this monster find you, which I cannot allow, or to kill you myself, which I refuse to do. I'm sorry, and I hope you forgive me. I'll try to heal the pain this causes the best that I can."

With that, she looked directly into my eyes, and told me that everything was fine. I knew James would probably be following us soon, so I didn't hesitate any longer. I told her I would try to help with the pain, and apologized quietly as I bit her wrist.

The taste of her blood was exquisite. It flowed into my mouth and soothed an ache in my throat of which I wasn't aware until this point. I knew that if I didn't stop immediately, I wouldn't be able to bite her again and get enough venom in her bloodstream to speed her change along. I fixed her face, and my daughter's, in my mind as it took all of my willpower to wrench my lips away from her skin. I then bit her again, and this sensation was just as bad as the first. Her blood _was_ the sweetest thing I'd ever tasted, and to wrench myself away from it again was excruciating. I knew I didn't have enough strength to continue doing this, so I prepared myself to bite her one more time.

I bit her one final time. I aimed for the source of her vitality, for the thoroughfare through which her lifeblood pulsed with force, and bit her jugular before sealing the wound with my tongue. I could still smell the blood from her other wounds, and told her that I needed to hold my breath.

To help me turn my focus away from the nectar that I had just sampled, I began to heal the searing fire of the transformation as it raced through her body. I knew that I probably couldn't take away all of the pain, and my mind started to ache with the effort. I tried to make the connection between our minds as strong as I possibly could. I knew I was weakening myself with the effort, but now that Alice was already turning, it didn't matter to me.

I eventually heard James approaching in the distance, and called out to him, "She is already turning. She is of no use to you now. Please leave us." I thought that he would leave now that the reason for his invasion of the asylum was removed, but he continued his approach. Only then did I realize the error in my assumption. He would now kill me for taking his prize.

I pleaded with him, using the last of my strength as I continued to heal Alice. "I am trying to heal her pain as she turns. She's been through much already. Please, if you're going to kill me, stay with her. Her name is Alice, and she's 19. She lived in Biloxi and has living family members, and will probably try to visit them once she sees them, but she needs to avoid them, as I haven't explained to her what she will become. She _needs_ to know about herself."

His slow smile spread across his face as he continued to walk towards me. I reached out with my mind again to Alice, knowing that it would be my last chance to help her. I felt his hands on my ears, and I couldn't summon the strength to fight as I felt him begin to twist.

* * *

**_Mary Alice_**

Jeremy spoke so quickly that I almost didn't catch his words, "Alice, do not move or even breathe until I come back to your side."

With that statement, he was gone and the door was ripped off of its hinges. As I began to panic at being left alone, I heard more screaming from down on the ground level. Before I could form a coherent thought, Jeremy was next to me again, and lifted me effortlessly into his arms.

"It seems you will learn what you want to, Alice. I'm outnumbered two-to-one right now, and I will not be able to beat these odds. I'm going to try to get you to safety, so please stay calm, and try not to make a sound." With that statement, Jeremy opened the window with one hand while cradling my body in the other arm, wrapped me tightly to his chest, and jumped out of my third story room.

I fought the urge to scream with all of my might as I saw the ground rush up to meet us. Just as suddenly as Jeremy had jumped, we were landing lightly on the ground. He asked if I was okay, and as I responded, he sprinted away from the asylum, and leapt the barbed wire fence around the courtyard to head toward the woods.

As Jeremy moved, the trees passed by in a blinding haze, I had some concept of the speed with which we moved by feeling the force of the wind against my face, but I was too stunned to speak. Instead, Jeremy started with the explanation he promised.

"Alice, the reason you can't see my future is because I'm not human. I'm the worst creature from your imagination—I am a blood-drinker, a vampire. My gift is apparent because of my transformation from human to vampire. To see a gift express itself strongly in a human, as yours does, is extremely rare and potent. You _do_ remind me very much of my daughter, who died at forty-two rather than ten. That was 187 years ago.

"I try to fight the nature of what I am by drinking the blood of animals rather than humans. If I did not follow this diet, I would not be able to be near you, and your blood smells especially sweet. The others of my kind following us now do not ascribe themselves to my particular set of morals, and so they want to kill you so that they may drink your blood. The leader was the man you saw, and you smell incredible to him. The only reason he didn't kill you outside a few days ago was because he would have needed to kill the surrounding 63 people to keep his secret, and your blood would have cooled in the meantime. Also, when he caught my scent, he knew that he would endanger himself by doing so. Since he has a companion, I cannot fight alone, and so I'm going to change you to protect you. They will probably kill everyone else in the asylum first, so we have about thirty minutes until they follow us."

As he spoke, I could feel my brain spinning and leaping inside my skull. The words that left his mouth belonged nowhere near a rational, sane world; then again, even outside the asylum, I did not believe the world to be rational and sane when they cast me away. In some twisted way, the story that Jeremy told me made perfect logical sense. It was simply too outlandish to be the truth, so I laughed—a cold, harsh, and metallic sound that reverberated from the surrounding foliage.

Jeremy stopped suddenly, and knelt down with me in the woods. He spoke again, saying, "Alice, I know that I'm not giving you a choice. The only other alternatives are to let this monster find you, which I cannot allow, or to kill you myself, which I refuse to do. I'm sorry, and I hope you forgive me. I'll try to heal the pain this causes the best that I can."

The sadness and self-loathing in his voice was apparent, and I felt sorry for causing him this much sorrow. I said, "It's alright, Jeremy," and his face softened infinitesimally. He apologized again, and brought my hand to his mouth. He kissed the inside of my wrist, and then I felt the sting of my skin being breached as he bit me. My mouth popped open in shock as he moved to my other wrist and bit that as well. Before I could say anything, I felt a searing pain being emitted from the first bite.

I flopped back against the dead leaves covering the ground and screamed as flames engulfed my veins. Then, as suddenly as the pain began, it started to recede. I could feel the familiar connection between my brain and Jeremy's as he tried to take away the pain I was feeling. I felt him bite my neck, and I opened my eyes to look into his as he pulled away. The tension and exertion on his face was incredible. It was as if the pain I had just felt was transferred to his body.

He said, "I'm trying, Alice. I can't talk to you; I have to hold my breath so I don't smell your blood." With that, he snapped his mouth shut, and his chest stilled. He closed his eyes, and concentrated on strengthening the tie that held his mind to mine. I could still feel some of the pain in my body, but it was an echo of the searing fire that flooded my being at first. I knew that for me to feel _some_ of the pain with Jeremy helping me, I would be screaming in agony if I were experiencing its full force.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax to prevent myself from crying out. The pain was not yet as bad as being strapped in for a shock treatment, but as it was worsening, I was afraid I had not experienced anything yet. I tried to close off my mind from what was happening around me, and tried to ignore the pain in my body so Jeremy wouldn't have to work as hard. I heard him moving around and murmuring to himself, so I was hopeful that we still had time before the others came to look for us. As I tried to relax, I felt Jeremy's grip on my mind tighten, and then I felt a surge from his mind to mine. An immeasurable, tortuous amount of pain immediately flooded my brain, and my body was overwhelmed with more agony than it could possibly hold. Like a light bulb bursting, my brain became overloaded from the sensation, and as I felt his hold wrenched away from my mind, my brain submitted to the agony of the onslaught and everything went black.

* * *

**_James_**

I made sure to glut myself on several humans as I made my through the asylum. I wanted to be full so that when I got to the girl, I could take the time to enjoy the nectar of her lifeblood. I've heard of the concept of a singer, and I knew that for me, drinking this girl's blood would probably be close to that ephemeral, but euphoric sensation. I followed her exquisite scent towards her room as I let Harvey have whatever he wanted in the rest of the asylum. I would probably have to destroy him after this anyway, as I wouldn't need him for much else besides dispatching the old one that watches over the girl. I knew he would be angry over my deception regarding the girl, and would probably attack me. The thought didn't concern me as I followed her fragrance up the stairs.

As I neared her room, I could tell by the concentration of her scent that she'd recently left. The old one's scent was there as well, so I knew he must have left with her. He probably took her out the window to make a quick escape, so I walked back down the stairs to pick up their scent outside.

Briefly, I wondered again how this vampire with the strange eyes could stand to be near so many humans, especially ones that smelled delectable. He'd threatened that he would protect all of the humans here if I fed in his territory; the thought made me chuckle, as we'd killed at least 13 of his humans so far, so he really only meant the girl.

As I walked outside, I picked up the scent of the girl and the vampire right below her window. I grinned, and started to run to follow the scent, when I heard her shriek in the distance. Frowning at what that sound could mean, I sprinted towards her scent.

As I approached, the old one heard me coming, and called out to me to tell me she was now turning, and was useless to me. At hearing these words, a red haze clouded my vision, as I was enraged that this fool dared to touch my prize. He continued to trill to me that he knew that I would not back away, but to please leave her to transform. I then realized that I had only heard her shriek once. I could still hear her heartbeat, so I knew that she was not dead.

I called out, "Why is she not in pain?"

The old one answered, "I am trying to heal her pain as she turns. She's been through much already. Please, if you're going to kill me, stay with her. Her name is Alice, and she's 19. She lived in Biloxi and has living family members, and will probably try to visit them once she sees them, but she needs to avoid them, as I haven't explained to her what she will become. She _needs_ to know about herself."

As I reached him, I saw him kneeling on the grass a small distance from where the girl lay. He looked up at me, and exhaustion was etched on his face as he tried to ease the change for the girl. I cocked my head at this strange creature, and then promptly removed his head from his body for meddling in my hunt.

I dismembered his body, and burned him in a nearby clearing. As I picked up his torso to throw it into the flames, I noticed a pad of paper and a pen in the breast pocket. Chuckling to myself, I took it and finished disposing of him.

I walked back to the girl, and looked at her expression while I smelled the change happening. She was no larger than a child, and yet her face held years of sadness. She appeared to be unconscious, which was confusing, but I could only assume it had to do with the meddling of the old healer. I sighed, and thought of how to fulfill his last request.

I grinned to myself, and wrote to her, "_In case you were wondering, your name is Alice. You're 19 years old._" I knew the old one meant for me to tell her about her _new_ self, but I had to smile at the spiteful manner in which I'd fulfilled this duty.

After I tucked the note into her fist, I turned and walked away from her limp corpse, ready to dismember Harvey to ease my agitation as well.

* * *

**Closing Notes: The idea behind this turn of events is that Alice's mind is damaged when its connection with Jeremy is broken, which explains her memory loss as a vampire, and also accounts for the reason she can't remember the pain of her transformation. ****There are more details as to how this is plausible in my profile. **Special thanks to GleeTwilightChic8660 for being my first reviewer ever! As I said before, please do not think that I wouldn't want to hear negative reviews—I am trying to improve my writing, so if you have a suggestion, I would love to hear it! Thanks for giving me the gift of your attention :)


	3. Ch 3: Visions of Memories

**To Be Granted Asylum**

**Author's Note:** **You know the drill—I don't own the Twilight Series, nor do I own any of its characters—I (sadly) only own the ideas you don't recognize.  
**

**I told you all I'd try for a two-week schedule and then I go away for a month like a jerk. I am sorry; my job got crazy, as it has a tendency to do sometimes. So no more promises. Anyway, this chapter was also difficult, as getting inside what it would feel like to wake up with **_**nothing**_** was slightly intimidating. I did spend a lot of time rewriting/editing the first couple of chapters since I hadn't really gone through them before posting, and they weren't very well written. Hopefully, that makes up for part of it. The heart of the plot hasn't changed, but with any luck, it makes things a bit easier to understand and a little bit more interesting to read. **

**Summary: Alice sees Jeremy O'Roarke for the last time, and tells him that she's going to die. She finds out that she's being hunted, and to save her, Jeremy explains what he is and turns her. While he heals the pain of her transformation, he is killed, leaving Alice unconscious while her change proceeds.**

Chapter 3: Visions of Memories

I heard one echoing "thud," and my eyes opened immediately from the strangeness of the noise. Alert and defensive, my brain catalogued the scenery that surrounded me: the cloud-filled sky, the soft lighting from the setting sun, and the trees that reached down towards me with their half-naked arms sporting small, uneven bracelets of yellow and brown leaves. I sensed no immediate danger, so I relaxed and studied the rest of my surroundings. I could smell the crispness of the air and the sweet, pungent odor of the decomposing foliage on the ground nearby. I could place the time as autumn based on the undead trees around me, but I had no idea from where this knowledge arose. I puzzled over this idea for a moment before I took stock of my person.

I stood quickly and abruptly, with virtually no motion at all once my brain had processed the thought. I considered the thin white dress that covered my body, which was of a coarse, dry material. I looked at the flimsy slippers in the same color as the dress that covered my feet, and noticed a shred of paper in my left hand. I opened the paper, reading the words that were written while simultaneously marveling at my ability to understand the meaning behind these shapes that marred the smooth white of the page: _In case you were wondering, your name is Alice. You're 19 years old._

The words that my brain processed triggered nothing—no emotion, no recognition. I accepted that I was called Alice, and the information regarding my age, but I had no idea if this was true, nor could I gather any feelings to confirm or deny this shred of knowledge. At the same time that I wondered about the note, my brain led me to question my ability to understand it. How did I know what the symbols meant? Why do I know that a name is something that one is called, but I don't know if I'm called "Alice"? A third train of thought rolled along side of these other two, questioning why I needed a note to confirm this information, as a name was supposed to be something of which one was completely aware. From where did this note come, and why did I have it?

These trains began to race through my brain, as a separate, more primal part of my cognizance registered that I had been "awake" for 1.43 seconds. I was also aware of a throbbing pain in my throat that I recognized as thirst, but that did not feel as I expected it to—the barren, scorched ache was so much more than thirst. Of course, I didn't think that I could trust my own expectations if I needed to be told my own name. As I thought about this, I also realized that my world seemed different than it should—it felt off, unusual, but I had no basis for comparison to validate this feeling. The knowledge was simply visceral, as if it was stored somewhere in my brain, but could not be accessed.

As I stood motionless below the maple trees, they faded from my vision as my senses were flung into a different scene. I saw a man, but as I thought of "man" as a description, I immediately rejected the portrayal. This _being_ was not a man—my mind had some awareness of the idea of a "man," and this creature did not fit it. He was regal; his lean, lithe body was as still as mine must be, but the energy that seemed to radiate from him gave me the impression of fluid, unbroken motion. His white skin was pitted and marred up his arms to his jaw line, but the impressions gave him a rakish, rather than hostile, appearance. I then focused on his face…

For a moment, my mind sank into utter oblivion. I was no longer suspicious of my ability to form words and express meaning, as I desperately longed for it to make sense of this creature's countenance. His high, prominent cheekbones framed a thin, long nose that was just shy of being straight. His cheeks were just barely sunk into his face, as his strong, square jaw framed them and his thin, pale rose lips. His blonde hair seemed luminescent as it captured the faint light that filtered around him, and the light amber strands hung to just above his shoulders in soft waves. His eyes were a deep burgundy, and although some part of my mind told me this was odd, I couldn't tear my gaze away from the pain held in their beautiful depths.

I tried to name him, as the word "man" had been inadequate, and the only word in my elusive vocabulary that came to the foreground of my mind was "seraph." He was a destroying angel, the beauty of his visage a tribute to heaven, the pain in his eyes a testament to his sadness, and his posture was evidence of his lethality. He looked around as if he were searching for something, and then turned to leave. As he began to run in one long, continuous movement, my vision faded and I was again below the red maples of the forest.

Was this a memory? Did I know the Seraph? The scene was so vivid, and felt so _close_, that I thought that he must be important to me. I knew by the direction of the waning sunlight filtering through the oak trees surrounding him that he had run north, so I started to run in the same direction, not bothering to question why I _needed_ to find him—why I needed to give him the item for which he searched. Suddenly my world revolved around locating this creature. I thought that if I knew him, he would surely know me and could explain why I had no idea who I was, or why I awoke alone in a forest.

As I ran to the north, my vision faded again, and I stopped abruptly as I saw another memory: _I entered a town at a full sprint, and stopped suddenly as people focused on me. I looked very different from them, as my white skin was similar to the Seraph's—it was pale in the extreme, and seemed to reflect light slightly as the glow from the setting sun caught it. My dress was different from the clothing that covered the humans, as it was ragged and dirty, and did not cover my whole body as the dresses did that the other women wore. When some of the townspeople saw me, they gasped in shock and stared, whispering to one another. I saw my eyes darken as they did so, and I could see myself sniff the air. As soon as I had smelled my surroundings, I leapt for the woman nearest to me and sunk my teeth into her neck, sucking the blood from her veins as everyone around us screamed for help. _NO! was the only thought in my mind as I saw the rest of the scene unfold. _After I had drained her dry, a man aimed a rifle at my chest and fired. The bullet ricocheted of my skin, but I could see that the only part of me that suffered harm was my dress. I then turned to him, and proceeded to take his life in the same grotesque manner as the woman._

My vision slowly returned to the scene in front of me, and I sat, rocked from this memory. It was not quite as sharp as the scene with the seraph, but it affected me with just as much potency. I knew that what I'd done was inherently _wrong_, but I had no idea why I'd still done it. The burn in my throat returned in more violence as I thought about consuming the blood from the humans, and I realized that the pain of this thirst was what must have driven me to take their lives to satiate my sordid need. The knowledge that I'd stolen the vitality of the humans without just cause made me feel like a weight began to slowly press on my chest until breathing was painful. I was a monster.

With this thought, the desire to find the Seraph disappeared. How could I go to meet him when I'd done such heinous things? Worse yet, what if he knew of my transgressions? For some reason, even though my body longed to find him with every fiber, I couldn't search for him knowing that I would be a disappointment, a fiend. I couldn't face him with such thoughts swirling in my head, so I changed course and walked to the west, lost to anything but my own dejection.

Without the buoyancy that seemed to possess me after I'd seen the memory of the Seraph, I couldn't bring myself to run. I loped along slowly, angry that I had no idea what I was doing. Why could I remember these things, the monstrosity of my nature, and the creature I now couldn't face, but not know who I was, or what I should do?

As my anger at the situation swelled, I was swept into another memory again. _I walked into an old cottage, ripping the front door off of its frame as I entered. The hall was covered in a film of dust, and as I walked into the foyer, I glanced to the side, seeing myself in the mirror. I gasped upon seeing my eyes, as they were an even deeper burgundy than the Seraph's._

I wretched myself away from this memory, angry with the reminder of the creature I wanted to desperately to find, but feared finding. I continued to walk through the forest, hearing only the birds and animals around me as the fled from my path. I looked up, and spotted the exact house from my memory and froze.

Was this my home? I knew it was convenient that I'd remembered it in detail only a couple of minutes before I'd stumbled upon it, and realized that it made sense for me to be only a few minutes' walk from my home. Curiously, the front door was attached to the frame, as I specifically remembered having removed it in my memory. I thought that the scene must have been an old one, and the door could have been replaced.

I walked up to the front of the house tentatively, not sure of what I would find. I pulled the door open quickly, and the wood popped as it split at the hinges. I looked at my right hand, as the mangled door was gripped in my fist. A flurry of thought invaded my brain as I thought of the implications of my actions. _Was this the second time I'd broken the door? Why was there no evidence of the first time it had been broken? The wood of the frame was as old as the rest of the structure. Was this wrong? Would I be in trouble for breaking part of this home?_

Then the most poignant of the thoughts invaded my brain: _what if the scene was not a memory?_ As soon as the words formed in my mind, I realized that they were the most significant of all my ideas. The door had not been broken before—of this, I was sure. The wood was not repaired, and was original. My memory was not in the _past_, but in the future.

Inspired by this revelation, I realized that I might not have killed the humans that I thought I did. However, as I rejoiced over this idea, I realized that if my "memories" were of the future, that perhaps it meant that I still would. I also realized that I might not have remembered the Seraph. Was he in my imagination? Or would I see him as the scene showed? My chest felt heavy again as this new knowledge both elated and depressed me.

I shoved these thoughts aside once I'd remembered the rest of the scene when I entered the house. _Or should I call them visions if it's the future I'm seeing?_ I pushed the notion aside and studied myself in the mirror. I recognized the young woman that stared back at me as myself, but I knew that the image was not quite right. I stopped questioning how I knew these things, but continued to study the reflection. Despite knowing what to expect, I still gasped when I saw my eyes—I knew that they were different from the browns, blues, and greens I'd seen in the eyes of the townspeople in my previous vision. This led me to believe I was more like the Seraph than the humans, but this knowledge did nothing to comfort me. Strangely, I felt a longing for the humans that I couldn't place, but was different that the thirst that constantly lurked in the back of my mind.

I studied the rest of my face once I could tear myself away from the eyes that stared back at me. I noted the short obsidian strands that stood out of my head in disarray and the small, heart-shaped face that was split by a narrow, straight nose that ended in a slight upturn. My lips were full, and my deep red eyes were trimmed by thin, full brows in the same ink black as my hair. I bit my bottom lip as I inspected the reflection, and the woman that stared back at me did the same. I noticed how the light reflected off of my teeth, and felt the edges digging in to my lips, surprised that it actually hurt. Seeing as I'd had a vision of being shot and remaining unharmed, I didn't think I could be injured.

I inspected my clothing as well, immediately hating the white shift that hung off of my slender frame. I moved through the house in the hopes that I could find something less conspicuous and slightly more pleasing to wear. I walked through the foyer to the back of the house, remembering that the room I entered was called a kitchen. I rummaged through some of the storage, and found cans of food. I knew that the food was meant to be eaten, but as I peeled back the top of a can of pears, the smell alone had me putting the food back. I could smell the slight decomposition of the fruit, and the pears themselves had an overly sweet, stifling smell that wasn't appealing to me.

I closed my eyes and saw a vision myself finding a closet of women's clothing in the bedroom on the left at the top of the stairs, so I immediately headed in that direction. Now that I knew I was seeing the future, I was much more comfortable with these visions. Even if I didn't know what I've done, at least I can see what I'm going to do.

I found the room I was looking for and went into the closet. I realized the woman who'd left these clothes was a few inches taller than I was, and hadn't been as slight of build. Sighing, I found a dress that looked like it was slightly smaller than the others were. At least it was better than the frock I currently wore. I moved to quickly change, intending to take off my dress and shoes. As I tried to remove the dress, I shredded it completely as I tried to pull it over my body. I gripped the new dress slowly while being extremely careful with the soft fabric as I didn't want to shred this, and remembered my incident with the front door as well. My strength startled me.

After I'd put it on, I turned to the mirror in the room to inspect myself. The blue dress hung off my figure awkwardly, but was far less conspicuous than my other dress. I ran my eyes down the scooped neckline and to the multiple ruffles at the bottom of the dress, deciding that the clothing helped to make me look more like the townspeople. However, I cocked my head slightly to the side when I realized that something was missing. I waited for a second, and realized that my feet had been covered before I changed. I went back to the closet to find new shoes, and could find none close to the size of my feet. I put back on my slippers, and decided I would have to find them later.

I went back downstairs and sat in an armchair, thinking that I should wait for my next vision to show me where I was supposed to go. As I sat, I closed my eyes and tried to "will" myself to see more. I could feel slight pulls on the edge of my mind, each with a different tenor, and I let them fill my mind one by one:

_A tall blonde man sat in a chair reading a book. His skin was as pale as mine and the seraph's, and he had the same stillness. Across from him sat a younger man with reddish-orange hair who was also reading. The copper-haired man was also like me, as his skin was pale and unblemished as well. The younger man looked up at the blonde one with butterscotch eyes, and spoke as if the blonde man had asked him a question, "Of course we should." The blonde man inclined his head in assent and they both went back to reading._

_

* * *

The two men ran through the woods and looked back at two figures that followed them—myself and the Seraph, hand-in-hand. Our eyes were no longer red, but matched the two men. There were other figures running with us, but I couldn't make them out—as if they were shadows on the fringes of the vision_.

* * *

_The copper-haired man was leaving the blonde man, telling him that he would return, but that he needed this time alone. Each time, the blonde man said nothing, but the copper-haired one answered his questions as if he'd plucked them from the air between them. He then turned with his pack and ran from the house, leaving the blonde one to allow a look of excruciating pain and worry to cross his face._

I opened my eyes and allowed myself to absorb what I'd just seen. These visions were not as vivid as the ones I'd had previously, and didn't "feel" as sharp or immediate. Perhaps these were undetermined, or would not take place as soon? I decided that I needed to learn more about them before I could make judgments, and tried to understand what the visions meant.

I'd seen two beings like myself and the Seraph, but they were different from us. Whereas the Seraph was lethal, these two seemed tamer, and more like humans. Their eyes also puzzled me…there must be some difference between them and us. But then, I realized that I'd seen myself with the same eyes, which confused me. How could they change?

I then allowed myself to think of the other detail that had seared itself into my mind: I'd found the Seraph, and we were holding hands. He looked happier than the first vision, and the sadness was gone from his eyes. Could it be that he was searching for _me_? The thought inexplicably caused my mouth to crack itself into an enormous smile, the likes of which I had not yet felt, and caused slight discomfort in my cheeks from disuse.

I continued to sit and tried to see more, but I couldn't see anything that felt clearer than the other visions, and eventually, I could see myself doing nothing but sitting in the chair I currently occupied. When the night had come and gone, and the sun started to rise, I became frustrated while waiting for a new vision and decided to go back into the woods. As I stood to leave, I saw myself stumbling upon a hunter, and saw him screaming as he saw me in the daylight. I stared at myself in the vision, as my skin seemed to reflect and amplify the sunlight as it touched me, splitting it into a rainbow of color and nearly blinding the hunter. I then saw myself leap upon him in the same manner than I had with the townspeople.

Why would I see this vision now, after waiting for 12 hours? I tried to understand what I had done differently, and realized that until I had taken some action, I had not had a vision of me doing anything but sitting. It must be that the actions influenced what I saw; I would not see myself doing anything differently until I'd already started on a course. Giddy with this new discovery, I decided to travel at night, and saw myself heading north towards the Seraph without mishap. I sat back in the chair, painfully aware of the burning that still permeated the lining of my throat, but I knew that I would not allow myself to kill a human for it. I would simply rely on my visions to keep me away from the humans.

* * *

As soon as night fell, I left the cottage and went north. I then remembered what had happened the last time I'd headed north, and paused as I reflected on the vision of me massacring the townspeople. Part of me knew, and _wanted_, to follow that route—to take their lives to sustain my own. I knew it would be easy for me to kill everyone that I needed to in order to satiate the burn that scorched my esophagus, leaving me in a constant state of relentless, aching pain. As I thought about drinking their blood, the pain intensified as the burn was brought to the front of my mind. The fire was agonizing as it ravaged the entire column of my neck, and I very nearly gave into the desire to quench it. Then I remembered the horror I'd experienced at seeing myself become a monster. I also thought of the Seraph, and the others like me I'd seen, thinking about how I needed to be less of a monster for them—I could be better than my nature. I made up my mind then to avoid the town, and refused to kill the humans.

Empowered by making this decision, I changed my heading to northeast in order to avoid the town. As I moved, I felt another pull on my mind that had the same tenor as the previous vision with the men like me. I waited for my mind to be pulled away from the present, and saw them running through the woods.

_"Carlisle," the copper-haired one said, "I'll head east from here, and meet you back home." The blonde one nodded to him and the copper-haired one split off to the right. "Carlisle" continued, but then stopped and became still. His nostrils flared as he sampled the air around him, and he slunk into a crouch, moving silently through the woods. He came up behind a huge animal that I could place as a moose, and sprang at its neck. He took the animal down, snapping its neck, and drained it as I'd seen myself drain the humans._

As I watched Carlisle, a surge of hope moved through me. First, I knew that I was meant to find these creatures as well as the Seraph, as I continued to see them. Next, I realized that I had a choice: I could live like Carlisle and the strange copper-haired one. I did not have to be the monster I'd seen myself become. Humans ate animals, so surely it would be acceptable for me to do the same.

Intoxicated by the knowledge of how to satisfy my thirst, I decided to find an animal to drink. I started walking again slowly, waiting for the tug on my mind that represented my own future, and checked to make sure I wouldn't see any humans. I saw myself moving northeast and tracking a small black bear. As I was pulled back from the vision, I smiled and began to run. I allowed myself to smell the air around me, and finally located a somewhat pleasing aroma. As my instincts began to take over, I felt the tug on my mind that showed the Seraph. Eager to see him again, I searched for that vision and saw him in the same stance as me, slinking towards a scent in the dark.

I smiled at the parallel between us, and continued until I could smell the bear just a short distance away. I saw it climbing up an oak, and began to follow it. At the same time I started climbing the tree, I heard the bear's warning growl, but I saw the Seraph approach his prey. He walked quietly up to a campfire with two human males sitting next to it. At this point, I couldn't stop to watch his actions, as the scent of the bear's blood and the loud, wet slopping of its heart consumed my senses. I tackled the bear, remembering to snap its neck as Carlisle did and unerringly finding its jugular with my teeth as I felt the fantastic relief of satiating the burn in my throat with its warm lifeblood. As I drank from the bear, I saw the Seraph hold one human while he drank from the other. Once he'd finished with the first, he threw the body aside and bit the second, killing him slowly as the blood drained away from his body.

The pressing feeling in my chest returned and my eyes stung in seeing the Seraph do something I'd sworn I would not. At the same time I'd finally felt some partial relief from the unbearable desiccation of my throat, he looked tortured and lonely after his meal. Although I knew that what he'd done was wrong, I couldn't help but feel for his remorse as he slowly began to bury the bodies.

I did the same for my bear's carcass, and vowed find the Seraph and show him that he didn't have to kill to live. Immediately, I saw a vision of myself meeting him in a small building as he entered to escape the rain. The vision was definite, yet still did not have the clarity of the visions I'd experienced in reality right after I'd seen them. I knew that this vision was not close, but I could not be sure where or when it would occur. Rejuvenated by understanding what I must do, I decided to work towards finding the Seraph with my visions as a guide, and knew that I would have to learn more about them to determine when to meet him.

With this purpose determined, I decided that I wouldn't search for where I came from, but would look towards where I needed to go. The Seraph, Carlisle, and the young man with Carlisle were in my future, and armed with the ability to find them, I finished burying the bear and continued north.

**Closing Notes: I know many people write that Alice has visions of Jasper as a human, but this isn't possibly according to the rules that SM has laid out. Her first vision of him **_**has**_** to be while she's a vampire, as she couldn't have seen one while she was human (for the same reason she couldn't see Renesmee or the wolves—she was never a "half-breed"). I'm trying very hard to make my Alice consistent with canon, so following these rules is imperative. ****Thanks for giving me the gift of your attention :)**


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